


If Only He Could Remember

by brokenstars



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Torture, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Not Canon Compliant, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Past Abuse, Psychological Torture, Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Trauma, What Have I Done, Why Did I Write This?, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29019180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenstars/pseuds/brokenstars
Summary: A story of a prisoner, his memories, and the journey he took to find them.---Ranboo is put in the prison and goes through some really tough times but manages to get out after a few months in there but when he gets out, he can't remember anything, not even his own name. He gets help from a few other people, but will he ever truly get back what he's lost?
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 408





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is my first time doing this i really don't know what im doing but i wrote this from a headcanon i had about ranboo being in the prison and i really didn't plan on posting this but now i have and i hope that whoever's reading this right now enjoys the story :)
> 
> EDIT: i am so so sorry the formatting got messed up terribly on this chapter but i fixed it in the later ones :”)

The frost gently caressed his face as he angled his head upwards, snowflakes catching in his hair and his eyelashes. How long had it been since he’d felt snow?  
He turned to the west and saw the sun setting, casting fiery shadows and turning the sea a thousand hues of gold. A simple sight, really. Sunsets occurred everyday. The horizon seemed so endless, so big. Too big for him, he thought. He walked on the edge of the coastline, sand shifting below his feet and water lapping at his ankles. He watched the sun descend into the horizon as a deep twilight coloured the sky, freckled by bright white stars. He traced the constellations as he followed the light of the North Star, further and further into the snow as the prison faded into the distance.  
Occasionally he’d catch a glimpse of himself in a nearby lake coated in ice and he’d trace his silhouette with his eyes and slowly fall into the memories as they came back in flashes, fleeting moments buried deep in the past.  
He’d trail his eyes over every X, every scar that dotted his skin like stars in the night sky above. 

Ice  
slowly etching  
little messages  
on his  
skin  
voices telling  
him  
reasons  
why  
why?  
blood thicker  
than  
water  
slowly leaking  
out  
like  
memories

He’d blink and the memories would disappear, the only trace of them a stray tear that would slip down his cheek and turn to ice before hitting the ground. He’d continue walking, aimlessly exploring the snowy terrain, feeling so, very, very, small. 

-o-

He looked up and watched as grey plumes of smoke rose into the night air.  
How many days had it been?  
He only could recall so little.  
Watching sunrises and sunsets dip and rise along the horizon while he treaded through the snow barefoot, the cold lingering on his skin like a heavy blanket.  
Standing still, entranced by the soft, glittering illusions of light formed by the snowflakes that sat heavy on his eyelashes.  
Watching snow dance and swirl in gusts of wind that ruffled his hair and dusted frost across his cheeks.  
How many days?  
His eyes flitted to the scars that started from his wrists and coiled around his shoulders and back.  
“One hundred and ninety-five,” he murmured. “One hundred and ninety-five.” 

Water  
burning and  
healing  
and air  
too thin to  
fill his  
lungs  
everyday so  
broken  
his time  
fast and fading  
his mind  
shattered  
like glass  
glass walls  
trapping him-

Someone bumped into him and he snapped out of his trance, stepping to the side as a disgruntled villager walked past him.  
A village.  
His pace quickened until the dark oak and yellowing grass paths of the village came into view, a tranquil village filled with small cottages and the occasional igloo. He walked across to the closest house and pushed the door open, the dark oak feeling strange against his fingertips, so different from the harsh obsidian walls he’d gotten used to.  
The house was bathed in warmth, an ambient glow emanating from the fireplace. He sat down on the bed, sheets flush against his skin as the ice thawed, leaving his hair damp from the snow.  
Slipping in between the sheets, he let himself relax under the soft cotton as he watched the flickering light cast dancing shadows onto the walls. It felt odd, having a pillow beneath his head and blankets to cover his body. For so long he had been sleeping in a cold, dark cell that he’d forgotten what it felt like to be safe, to feel at home.  
And for a brief moment he let himself feel peace. 

-o-

He awoke at midnight in a cold sweat.  
For a moment he saw cold obsidian walls and black stained glass and a porcelain mask with a smile so taunting, so-  
He gasped for air, tears welling in his eyes and he braced himself for the onslaught of the freezing water, ice that would flood his lungs and pain that would flood his mind-  
But he only felt the warmth of the fireplace and the weight of the downy cotton on his body.  
No figure looming in the front door, gold keys jangling eerily.  
No shimmering knife on the walls.  
No pain, no water.  
Just the sound of the crackling fireplace and his own, ragged breathing.  
He blinked away the tears threatening to fall and exhaled shakily.  
“You are fine,” he muttered, repeating the phrase over and over again like a mantra until his breathing slowed and words began to slur as he fell back into a deep, deep sleep.

-o-

He peered into the icy lake.  
The reflection in the ice had hair that fell to his collar, messy and tangled. His sleeves were gone, exposing his long, spindly arms covered in numerous Xs. His face was gaunt and angular, sporting sunken cheeks devoid of colour and dark shadows beneath his eyes.  
He blinked.  
The reflection did the same.  
He stood up and ran his hands through his hair, fingers catching on knotted strands of black and white. He slowly unraveled a spool of string he’d collected while cleaning the bookshelves, a strangely mind-numbing activity that had allowed him to slow down and take in the world around him. He tied the string around his hair, wrapping it in a neat ribbon that lifted some of the weight from his shoulders. Almost normal, he thought.  
Three days ago, he’d reached the village.  
He’d stayed here for three days, living off the scraps of bread he’d found in a chest in the corner of the room.  
It wasn’t a dream.  
This wasn’t one of those days where he’d open his eyes and realise that no time had passed and he was still stuck in that glass box.  
He blinked again and stared into his reflection’s eyes.  
“It’s been awhile,” he whispered, “I almost didn’t recognise you.”  
The snow started falling again, a wintry breeze sweeping over his skin.  
He turned and started to head back home, craving the warmth and comfort of the fireplace.  
He walked gently through the snow, bare feet barely leaving footprints.  
That was when he heard it.  
The unmistakable echo of voices. 

-o-

“Do you really believe him?”  
“If he’s out there somewhere, we have to find him.” 

A flash of blonde hair.  
A glimpse of a golden crown. 

So familiar, he thought. 

A sword  
and a heart  
broken men  
betrayed by their  
friends

He shook his head and snapped out of his trance. Not now.  
He peeked out from behind the pine tree.  
Amber eyes met his.  
He gasped and whirled around, back flattened against the rough bark. 

“I saw something. Stay here. I’ll go and see who it was.” 

He closed his eyes, heart hammering against his chest.  
The world started to spin as his breathing sped up, adrenaline racing through his veins. 

Need to get out.  
Need to get  
Out. 

“What was it?”  
“Hm. Nothing.” 

The pink haired figure sheathed his sword and walked away as purple sparkles swirled around in the wind behind him, unnoticed. 

-o-

He fell to his knees in a snowy plain.  
Not the village.  
He looked around as his vision began to clear and saw drops of red staining the ground as they fell from his face, thick and viscous.  
A wave of pain assailed him from every direction and he bent over in agony.  
His eyes began to drift shut as spots of black blurred out the world, like ink slowly dripping onto a blank canvas. 

Drip  
Drip

Drip  
Drip 

Drip.

-o-

He found himself again as he stood before a small purple room, tight and enclosed with no windows or doors. The only source of light was the small, glowing silver rod placed in the very centre of the room.  
He looked around and heard voices, faint and unrecognisable. Slowly they got louder before two figures began to appear before his eyes, violaceous particles coalescing and writhing as they turned into people.  
He stumbled back in shock.  
Before him stood a younger version of himself, black and white hair tousled messily and crown slowly sliding off his head. Next to him stood a woman he struggled to recognise, her face blurry and indistinguishable, as if something happened to cloud his vision. She had the same emerald eyes that shone like stars and black hair that cascaded over her shoulders in flowing waves. Her skin was a dark ebony and was freckled by thousands of white specks, like a night sky filled with stars. She giggled and raised her hand to her face as she watched the younger version of him grumble and fix his crown.  
“Now, do you remember?”  
Her voice was melodic and kind, every word slipping off her tongue in a lilting song.  
They didn’t seem to see him.  
He stood up and made his way toward them, hand shaking as he reached out to touch her.  
His hand passed right through.  
“I do!”  
“We’ll play a game, alright? You’ll teleport somewhere, and I’ll try to find you.”  
“Okay!”  
“Go!”  
The younger version of him smiled happily and nodded his head before vanishing again, leaving only shimmering particles in his wake.  
The woman seemed to turn toward him slightly, locking eyes as if she could see him.  
He froze, unable to move or look away.  
Her smile had faded and so had the kindly look in her eyes, replaced by something else, something strange, like a message he couldn’t quite get.  
“Do you remember?”  
She cocked her head at him, beckoning him to answer.  
She can’t see me.  
This isn’t real.  
He closed his eyes.  
This isn’t real.  
He opened his eyes and he was alone again, with nothing but her question and his own, deafening silence to accompany him. He sat down on the cold tiles and hugged his legs tight to himself, silently begging himself to answer. He waited for something, anything, as if a response would bubble up within him and he would realise that these thoughts were all for naught and he remembered everything, every little detail and every little moment in this life of his.  
But of course, he didn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay new chapter :D  
> hello, if you were here from before his chapter was updated, i changed the previous chapter a little as i decided to change the storyline of this fic a little!  
> hope you enjoy the second chapter :))

He jolted awake, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead. The wind ruffled his hair as he blinked away the frost that had collected on his eyelashes in miniature icicles. Looking around, he saw the endless white of the snowy plains, ivory powder that went on for miles. The world seemed to blur around the edges, his vision foggy. The snow fell off him as he stood, falling in little bits and pieces of ice that had collected between the folds of his clothes.

How did I get here?

He shook his head, knocking snow out of his hair and crown.

There wasn’t any point in trying.

It wasn’t like he would remember anything anyway.

As he continued to wander through the snow,he began to hear a guitar, soft sounds of someone gently strumming its strings. Strange, he thought. Who else could be here, besides him? He followed the music blindly, feet moving of their own accord. Soon he found the source of its melody, a small gray figure playing with it’s strings as he sung to a blue sheep.

Even stranger, he thought. A blue sheep?

A man,

broken and hurt

lost within the walls

of a

country

once loved

A man

fallen into madness

collapsed

within

himself

only to find

comfort

in a

shining

blade

“Hello?”

He blinked and saw the man waving at him, blue eyes sparkling amusedly.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but notice you standing there. I’m Ghostbur! Nice to meet you.”

He chuckled, as if he’d told an especially funny joke.

“What’s your name?”

He opened his mouth to respond-

But nothing came out.

Ghostbur watched him with a peculiar expression on his face.

“I…don’t remember.”

“That’s just silly. It’s your own name!”

He looked away, fixing his gaze on the blue sheep beside the man.

An awkward silence ensued, before Ghostbur noticed this and smiled again before sauntering over to the sheep and petting it fondly.

“I see you’ve noticed Friend! They’re a sheep,” he giggled, latching onto the sheep’s blue coat.

The sheep baa-ed and nudged his hand, as if to say hi.

He smiled slightly, the edges of his mouth twitching upwards.

Ghostbur continued to grin.

“So, what brings you out here, Memory Boy?” He chuckled again. “Get it? It’s ‘cause you have a bad memory. Can’t even remember your name.”

Ghostbur wagged his finger at him jokingly.

He only frowned, unable to recall why he had found himself here.

“Well, do you know where you’re from?”

“No.”

“I suppose that doesn’t really matter. Do you remember why you’re here?”

_“Why are you here? Let me remind you.”_

_Green eyes, cunning and bright, filling his mind with lies._

_Green eyes, furious as he insisted on finding his own truths._

_“Do you remember?”_

_Green eyes, beckoning him to answer._

_Green eyes, questioning but kind, asking for his own answers._

_His own answers._

“I’m looking for my own answers,” he breathed, lost in thought.

_I remembered something._

_I finally remembered something._

_I’m looking for my own answers._

“My own answers,” he repeated, surer.

“There we go! There’s something.”

Ghostbur flew upwards and did a little loop-de-loop, before clapping his hands and landing back on the ground.

“Do you think you have somewhere to look for these answers?”

A city

made purple

lit

by

shining

white lights

with

people he

knew

he found

himself

standing

within

a room

“A purple city,” he whispered, mostly to himself.

“I’ll pretend I heard that,” Ghostbur piped, wrapping a leash around Friend’s neck. “Let’s go together, shall we? A new journey! Aren’t you excited, Friend?” He rubbed Friend behind his ears, leading him gently away from the shelter they’d been sitting under. “Don’t be silly. I’m sure our new friend’s a nice person, although he might forget us soon.” The sheep baa-ed, as if it were responding. 

Ghostbur laughed, his laughter carrying off on the wind like tinkling wind chimes.

He could only follow as they started walking into the snow, amused by their little antics and feeling lighter than he had in days.

And so they set off, a sheep, a ghost, and a lost boy, who’d forgotten his own name.

All in search for the city he’d found in his dreams.

-o-

The pink-haired figure stood in the doorway, his slender figure casting long shadows onto the floor. In his bed lay a stranger, someone he never thought he’d see again. He pursed his lips into a thin line as he watched the figure twitch and shake as roseate glitter swirled around him in iridescent patterns. When he and Phil had gone out looking for him after receiving a message from Dream saying that he had escaped, he didn’t expect to find him bleeding out on the snow barely a mile away from his house, unconscious. He had stayed silent while Phil had picked him up in a flurry of panicked movements, but had still helped when Phil tried to bring him back home. They’d let him rest on his bed, and there he stayed.Ever so often Phil would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and insist on checking on him, mumbling something about not wanting to lose “another one” or worrying that Dream had come and spirited him away while they were asleep. They’d argued over it at dinner the previous night, with Phil insistent on administering a recovery potion in the hopes of him waking up faster. He had disagreed; warning Phil of the dangers of using potions on those not fully human. But Phil’s obstinate nature had gotten in the way of that, and he’d given him the potion himself.

His eyes drifted over the sleeping figure.

His sleeves had been torn off, revealing black and white skin riddled with dozens of X’s, ragged scars that seemed to cover both his arms and continued down along his chest and back. His cheeks had been hollowed out, limbs reduced to spindling sticks. He bore nightmare scars, dark circles under each eye.

Scars told stories, he thought. Each and every one of them told a tale.

So what were his?

What were the stories behind the carvings on his skin, the intricately created pattern of cuts?

Perhaps he’d never know.

People weren’t books. You couldn’t read them, no matter how hard you tried. They could only tell you their stories themselves.

But he couldn’t tell him his story, not when he had fallen into a deep, deep sleep.

So there would be only one way for him to find those answers for himself.

He would ask the person who’d experienced these stories too.

Dream.

-o-

He sat by the campfire, watching the flames dance and flicker, casting dancing shadows onto the cave walls. 

The ghost and his sheep lay in the corner, snuggled close together in order to preserve the little warmth they had left.

A few hours before sundown, a blizzard had hit, causing them to retreat into the nearest cave. The ghost had placed down a campfire, insisting that they couldn’t walk in the blizzard or he would melt.

He had raised his eyebrows at this, surprised.

But before he could ask any questions, the ghost had buried his face into the sheeps wool and promptly fell asleep.

His eyes began to drift shut, the exhaustion slowly catching up.

It wouldn’t hurt, would it?

He’d just rest for awhile.

Sleep.

Sleep sounded good.

And sleep he did.

-o-

a man

checking for a pulse

putting

him

to

sleep

bringing him

to

safety

in a house

not so

far

away.

he couldn’t

wake up

trapped

in

his own

mind

as he slept

in

a bed

that wasn’t

his own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!  
> if anyone is confused and wants to ask me questions or wants to talk in general, my discord is 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑠#0701 <3  
> once again, hope you enjoyed!!  
> feel free to comment or leave kudos, i really appreciate it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter!!  
> this one isn't the best and i'm not the proudest of this, but i hope you enjoy it.  
> this chapter's rather short as i've rarely had time to write due to school n things.
> 
> :D

“Hey! Rise and shine!”

He awoke to Ghostbur’s voice, loud and cheerful. He opened his eyes, blearily rubbing away the sleepiness as Friend nudged him gently, like a ‘good morning’. 

“Well, the blizzard’s gone. We can set out again! Ooh, we’ll be like travelling bards,” At this, he whipped out his guitar and strummed dramatically. “I have so many stories.”

Smiling slightly at the prospect of a journey spent not-so alone, with Ghostbur and Friend by his side, he stood up and followed Ghostbur into the snow as he led Friend out from their little cave. 

They walked in silence, shielding their faces from the sun’s rays as they pierced through the clouds, revealing patches of blue sky. 

Without warning, Ghostbur froze in his tracks, causing Friend to bump into him and baa loudly. If a sheep could sound in the slightest bit annoyed, that would’ve been it. 

“Sorry, Friend,” Ghostbur apologised sheepishly, before turning to face him. “I was just wondering, have you met Alivebur before? He was like me, but alive.”

He shook his head. 

“Oh, that’s alright. I don’t really remember him either. I don’t think he was a very good person,” Ghostbur frowned, as if the very thought of who he used to be upset him greatly. “But thankfully, Phil put an end to that.” He paused. “You’ve met Phil, right?”

Phil.

The name sounded so familiar, yet so hard to recall, his memory becoming foggier and foggier each time. Almost as if he had heard it somewhere, buried deep in the recesses of his mind. 

But something clicked. 

Something clicked and soon he was closing his eyes, falling deeper and deeper into his thoughts. 

“Phil!” 

the man cried

flinging

the door

open

“Get over here!”

another figure

entered,

perhaps phil,

was his

name?

he opened 

his eyes

gasping

for

air

two figures by

his

bed

trying to

wake him

but

he

was

unreachable

as he

  
  


went back

under. 

  
  


-o-

_ They sat on the edge of the world, dangling their legs over the edge of the cream-coloured stone.  _

_ “It’s nice, isn’t it, being able to teleport,” she mused, glancing at him. “The energy is exhilarating. But don’t let yourself fall. Remember that it follows you. It follows your emotions, your thoughts. Don’t lose yourself.” _

_ “If you fall, you may never be able to rise again.” _

-o-

_ A star, collapsing in on itself.  _

_ Shattering at the core. _

_ Energy pulsing within as it bursts into shards of light, white-hot stardust slowly combusting as it broke apart and pieced itself together again. _

_ Falling from the sky, summoned by the energy of one.  _

_ Falling together, both broken and whole, all at the same time. _

-o-

“Hey…You alright?”

Ghostbur peered at him, concern plastered over his face as he stared at him quizzically.

“You kinda zoned out for awhile there.”

He shook his head. 

“I’m fine.”

He looked away, avoiding eye contact.

Ghostbur drew away, smile returning as he floated back towards Friend, feet barely hovering above the snow. 

“Let’s set off again, shall we?”

Ghostbur began to hum as he strummed on his guitar, Friend trailing behind him.

He kept quiet as he listened to Ghostbur’s singing, thoughts drifting far, far away from the snowy plains and into a world filled with memories not yet found. 

-o-

“Oh, Techno, you’re back.”

He slammed the doors behind him, vibrations shaking the spruce frame. 

“Sound like you weren’t successful.”

The pink-haired figure sheathed his sword, leaning on the door and hanging his head, letting out an exasperated breath. 

Phil waited at the edge of the ladder, a hand reaching toward him tentatively. 

He looked up, amber eyes meeting blue. 

Phil drew his hand back.

“Maybe later, Phil. I have some things to deal with.”

He soundlessly stripped off his cloak and walked back into the snow, leaving only a piece of paper behind, the letter silently fluttering toward the ground.

Phil picked up the note, delicately unfolding the yellowing paper. 

_ I know why you’re here. _

_ I know you have him. _

_ I will retrieve what is mine.  _

Phil swallowed, eyes drifting toward the room above him.

He let the paper slowly disintegrate in his hands, turning to dust in his palms. 

_ A whisper _ , he thought.  _ Of course.  _

He reached for a piece of paper in the stack Techno always kept in his chest.

_ I won’t allow you to hurt him any longer. _

_ He has gone through enough. _

_ I won’t lose another one.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!  
> i hope you enjoyed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoo finally a new chapter!  
> sorry for not updating so often, my exams have just started and i'm quite busy.  
> hope you enjoy!

Pieces of paper fluttered gaily in the wind, drifting further and further away as he reached out to catch them.

Ghostbur jumped into the air, feet floating off the ground as his nimble fingers gripped the edge of the paper, careful not to tear it.

Clutching two other scores to his chest, he plucked the last piece of paper from within the branches of a tree. 

“Sorry about that! Thanks for helping me get these back!” Ghostbur grinned sheepishly as he retrieved the pieces of paper from his hand, folding them gently into his pocket. 

“No problem,” he answered, a cheerful lilt to his voice. He’d been feeling lighter than he’d felt in weeks, his past blurring even more than before as he made new memories with his friend and his sheep. 

Ghostbur paused, peering at a piece of paper, slightly crinkled and yellow, the notes crooked and smudged. 

“Hey, Memory Boy, do you happen to know of a place named L’manberg?”

He shook his head, lightly tugging at the leash as Friend stopped to nibble on a patch of grass.

“Well, let me tell you all about it!”

Ghostbur’s fingers seemed to dance across the guitar strings as he began to sing, a fond nostalgia washing over his face as the song spilled from his lips.

__

_ “Well, I heard there was a special place, _

_ Where men could go and emancipate, _

_ The brutality and tyranny of their rulers.  _

_ Well, this place is real, we needn’t fret, _

_ With Wilbur—That’s me!—Tommy, Tubbo, not Eret, _

_ It’s a very big and not blown up L’manberg. _

_ My L’manberg, _

_ My L’manberg. _

_ My L’manberg, _

_ My L’manberg…” _

Ghostbur trailed off, his fingers slipping off his guitar as the song ended. 

His gaze drifted towards the horizon, eyes fixating on something he couldn’t quite make out.

Ghostbur glanced back at him. 

“So? How’d you like it?” His smile reappeared on his face, as warm as the summer sun.

“It’s great,” he answered, voice sincere and true. “Sounds like a nice place.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so!” Ghostbur giggled, putting away his guitar as he continued walking.

He paused, the country’s name echoing in his mind as the floodgates opened, the memories assailing him from every direction. 

_ L’manberg. _

A country

It’s walls,

torn 

down

desecrated by 

bloodshed

buried in

lies

leaving

it’s 

leaders

deranged,

_ {a button, clicking _

__

__ betrayed,

_ {a heartbeat, slowing _

  
  


__ lonely,

_ {a compass, spinning _

  
  
  


__ and broken.

_ it’s symphony, unfinished} _

  
  


For a moment, he looked over at Ghostbur, happily bounding across the snow, and saw the shadow of a man, trenchcoat billowing behind him as he raised a finger to his lips, eyes sparkling with the heat of a thousand fires. 

But he blinked, and it was gone as soon as he came. 

“Are we anywhere near where we need to go yet? I’m getting tired,” Ghostbur lamented, slowing down as he turned to look at him. 

He looked around at the snow that went on for miles, the same sight they had seen for ages. 

“I don’t think so,” he answered, unsure. 

Ghostbur yawned. 

“Well, the sun’s setting. Maybe it’s time to take a break.” He smiled wearily, the exhaustion catching up to him. 

“Sounds good…” Ghostbur snuggled into Friend, clutching him tight as they settled down beneath a small rocky arch surrounded by spruce trees, placing down their campfire as night fell, both of them soon sound asleep. 

_ -o- _

He slashed his sword forward, cutting down zombie after zombie as they slowly lumbered towards him, his blade glinting in the moonlight. 

Dream’s threat rang true in his mind, loud and clear. 

_ I will soon retrieve what is mine.  _

He’d traveled miles to reach the mountain at which him and Dream had first met, only to find a whisper awaiting him with a single promise.

He remembered calling out for Phil as he watched him writhe in his sleep, seemingly gasping for air as his eyes opened for a split second before he fell back into his slumber, still and lifeless. 

As his blade pierced rotten flesh once again, he caught a glimpse of silver in the distance, the shimmer of particles swirling.

His hair whipped around his face as he crept towards the strange sparks of light, eyes narrowing as he slowly recognised the familiar opalescent whorls of an invisibility potion. 

His grip tightened on his sword. 

His feet barely made any sound as he stalked the figure ambling in the snow, lifting his sword up high as he inched closer and closer. 

Soon the translucent outline of the stranger began to come into view.

The magenta sheen of a chestplate, resting firmly against a green hoodie. 

A utility belt, filled with potions and a quiver of arrows. 

A cracked porcelain mask, a crude smile drawn onto it. 

_ Dream.  _

__

__ The figure spun to face him just as he pounced, barely catching his sword with his own as the blow knocked him to the ground, invisibility potion dissipating as he hit the ground hard. 

“Dream,” he hissed, amber eyes cruel and relentless as he struck again. 

“Happy to see me?” He bit back.

Their swords met again, their silhouettes illuminated by the moonlight. 

Dream blocked Techno’s every blow with ease, but slowly felt his arms begin to tire as he parried strike after strike. 

“What are you doing here, Dream?”

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure you know, Techno.” 

Dream rolled to the ground as Techno lunged forward, sword gleaming dangerously, a promise of blood on its tip as it sliced a lock of his hair off. 

“Hm. I see you’ve improved.”

“And I see you’re tiring out, Dream. I’ve beaten you before. I’ll beat you again.”

He knew this. 

He knew he was barely any match for Techno, not after years of living the easy life.

Which was why he had to leave. 

He’d come back, of course. But he couldn’t let himself be bested.

Not again.

“I’ll come again. You know that. I will get back what is mine.”

Glass shattered on ice as brilliant silver liquid coated the both of them, veiling them in shimmering particles.

He waved away the dissipating mist as his sword cut through thin air. 

He huffed angrily as he turned away, his rival long gone. 

In the distance, the sun began to rise. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading :))  
> please leave kudos or comments and share, but only if you want to <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! new chapter!!  
> i tried to write a longer chapter this time, hope you like it :))  
> i really like this chapter hehe

The mahogany tiles glistened with water droplets as he slammed the doors shut, the old observatory floor creaking beneath his feet.

Light streamed in from the windows (if one could even call them that, for they were simply tears in the ceiling replaced by glass), illuminating dozens of red strings hanging from the ceiling, each one of them pulsing gently. 

His eyes flickered to the puddles beneath his feet, reflecting the crude black and white smile of his cracked porcelain mask and the workbenches behind him, every one of them empty other than a single chessboard that lay untouched, resting gently on the rotting wood.

He whirled around, sweeping a hand across the chessboard as all the pieces fell to the ground in one fell swoop. 

Only a single pawn remained.

He picked it up, running his thumb over the millions of intricate carvings and designs, words written in an ancient language.

⟒⎐⟒⍀ ⌇⍜ ⍜⎎⏁⟒⋏, ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⏃⍙⋏ ☊⊑⟒☊☍⋔⏃⏁⟒⌇ ⏁⊑⟒ ☍⟟⋏☌.

He scoffed. 

His hand slid beneath the table, fingers meeting marble as he felt around for the familiar box that had been hidden so cleverly on the underside of the workbench.

Its contents sealed away by a small silver lock, without a key in sight. 

Unless you knew how to look for it, of course.

Smiling conspiratorially, he inserted the head of the pawn into the lock, turning it until he heard the softest of clicks.

A single purple orb rolled into his hand, a gentle lilac glow emanating from within as green light bubbled to the surface and swirled around inside, morphing into a small ring of light. 

His free hand subconsciously flew up towards the mask, fingers resting where his eye should’ve been. 

_ Oh, how I’ve missed this. _

Clutching it tight, he let himself fall into his own mind as he was soon surrounded by an endless white, like a blank canvas stretching on for miles. 

_ Space. _

He felt the same calm walking around the void as he had when he’d first discovered this place, a hidden oasis in his dreams. A strange paradise, built out of paper wishes and glassy visions. 

But it had been taken away from him when those dreaded hunters had came and broken his mind, beating him until his eye fell out of its own socket and what used to be a paradise turned into a nightmare. Red tears leaked out of an empty eye socket as the knife fell to his feet, black silver reflecting the sickening scars they’d left on his skin. 

He remembered only seeing a gaping hole of darkness where northern lights used to shine and hid it behind a mask as he escaped the clutches of his cruel masters, before the hunted became the hunter and soon their bodies lay at his feet, too. 

It had never been the same after that, for his Space was now ridden with cracks and tears, a world ripping at the seams as darkness slowly seeped out and spilled over the surface, murky and viscous.

He’d refused to leave despite the fact that his Space was corrupting, despite the fact that every time he entered another memory would be lost to the darkness. 

Instead he’d taken up residence in the observatory in which he’d suffered weeks of torture, just to stay close to the memories. To preserve something. 

Anything.

_ How ironic, _ he thought.  _ The home of my past tormentors has become my own.  _

Soon he reached the border of his own Space, a single stone slab peeking out of the ground, a ribbon tied to the top of the slab, signifying the end of his Space and the beginning of another’s.

The frayed red ribbon lay limply at its side, a name sewn onto it in shimmering gold thread.

⍀⏃⋏⏚⍜⍜.

He began to laugh.

Silently, at first. But soon his peals of laughter echoed through the boundless dimension, loud and harsh.

He’d doubted the possibilities.

But it seemed that he had been proven wrong. 

There’d be no need to retrieve Ranboo.

Not when he was right here with him. 

-o-

His footsteps stuttered, thin frame swaying in the wind as he struggled to catch up with Ghostbur, the only thing visible in the snow his bright yellow sweater.

Friend huddled close to his side, shivering and quietly baa-ing. 

Looking down at Friend, he forced a smile. 

“It’ll be alright, Friend. Come, let’s walk a little faster.”

If there was any response, he didn’t see it in the ever-falling snow.

“Slow down, Ghostbur!”

He stopped hugging himself for a moment to cup his hands over his mouth, yelling over the sound of the howling wind. 

He squinted into the distance before realising that he’d lost him completely, his sweater no longer visible. 

“Ghostbur?” He called feebly, teeth chattering together.

He looked down to his side, eyes flaring as he realised Friend had disappeared too, unclenching his fist as he realised that he’d already let go of the lead.

He whipped around, desperately searching for a sign of his companions, a glimpse of a yellow sweater or a tuft of blue wool.

But all he saw was snow, coming down hard and fast.

Soon he caught a flash of movement, a silhouette walking towards him in the snow.

His eyes brightened, pace quickening as he headed toward the figure.

“Ghostbur! There you are!”

His smile faltered as the figure stayed silent.

“Ghostbur?”

The snow began to part, forming an odd circle around them.

As the snow thinned, he stumbled back as he looked upon the face of the man before him.

_ Definitely not Ghostbur. _

The stranger’s mouth was set into a grim line as he approached him, but that wasn’t what had caused him to fall back in fear. 

A crooked scar stretched across his face, a gruesome line of mottled skin from the tip of his eyebrow down to the left corner of his mouth.

It had completely obscured his left eye, a jagged wound that opened a yawning chasm in his face. 

And his  _ eye _ . 

If one could even call it that. 

It was nothing but a black hole, as if someone had carved out his eye and left his eye socket empty to rot.

He shuddered, looking away.

“W-Who are you?” He stammered, refusing to look up at him.

“Hm. You don’t recognise me? After all the time we’ve spent together?”

“N-no,” he stuttered, scrambling away desperately as the stranger began to advance.

“Are you sure?”

The stranger smiled at him, but there was something sinister in the way his head twitched and the way his smile grew as he continued staring straight into his eyes. 

He remembered that smile.

It was the same smile that had plagued him for days on end, the same smile that belonged to the voice in his head, the same voice that belonged to the man who’d trapped him in that dark place, that dark place he’d tried so hard to forget. The same man who’d dragged him into the depths of his own mind, filling his memories with lies and twisting his perceptions with falsehoods.

_ Dream. _

He looked down, unable to move, recognition and fear flooding his face.

_ Dream was back. He had found him. He hadn’t escaped. He wasn’t free. _

Dream smirked.

“See, you do remember me. Did you really believe you had escaped?”

He extended his palm, reaching out towards him. 

“It’s time to go home,  _ Ranboo.  _ That’s your name, isn’t it? Thought I should remind you, in case you’ve forgotten. ”

_ Ranboo. _

_ A name. _

__ **_My_ ** _ name. _

  
  


He clambered up, backing away from Dream’s outstretched arm. 

“I-I’m not going back with you. No. No.  _ No. _ That place isn’t home. I don’t want to go back. Stop talking. S-Stop telling me things. All you told me there was that I was a  _ traitor _ —That’s not true. It’s not true. It’s not true…”

He trailed off.

Dream’s smile faded, his face twisting into an ugly expression of rage, gruesome scar stretching across his face.

“Not true? Ranboo, you  _ betrayed _ the people who trusted you! I locked you in there to teach you a lesson—that you obviously  _ haven’t _ learned—You lived a life of peace and prosperity, but you took it for granted, Ranboo! It’s not your choice, Ranboo. It’s  _ mine _ .”

He flinched, trying to wrest free of the hold he had on his mind.

Dream grabbed his hand, pulling him into white oblivion as he screamed, burning like a thousand fires. 

-o-

“No, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen,” the brunette combed his hand through his hair as he paced, free hand going to his mouth as he bit on his fingernails. “Dammit, Karl! Why can’t you do something right for once!”

He continued to pace, footsteps echoing off the smooth marble walls. 

“The story isn’t supposed to end this way. I have to do something.”

The portal behind him began to waver, brilliant shades of green and purple casting psychedelic patterns onto his sweater as it too, began to fill with colour, dusty shades of grey and white slowly fading away. 

Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he stepped into the portal’s bright embrace, its surface rippling around him as he entered. 

“Don’t mess this up again,” He chided himself. “You only have so much time left to make things  _ right _ .”

The resounding  _ thrum _ of the portal faded away as he found himself in an old observatory, workbenches illuminated by the rays of light trickling in through the glass shards in the ceiling.

_ What odd windows.  _

Soon he heard footsteps, loud and angry as a hand pushed the door open, rotted wood creaking as they entered.

Karl ducked under a table, hoodie coloring a dark brown as if to disguise himself as he pressed his back against the wall. 

There was no need to peek; he knew who this person was. 

He watched as Dream scattered the chess pieces all over the floor before taking a seat at the very table he hid beneath. Dream seemed to hesitate before his hand began searching the underside of the table until his fingers made contact with what seemed to be a small box, a miniature chest stuck to the underside of the table. 

Soundlessly, he slid the head of the pawn he had been fidgeting with into the intricate silver lock, the softest of clicks echoing throughout the room as the opening of the box fell open, a small object rolling out into his awaiting palm.

_ This is my chance.  _

In the split seconds his fingers reached for the object, Karl grabbed the orb before Dream could. The glowing purple sphere pulsated gently as he shoved it into his pocket, before he vanished in a flash of light as Dream peered under the table, slamming his fist down in anger as he realised what he was looking for was no longer there.

Heaving out a sigh of relief as he appeared back in the familiar castle made of white marble arches and quartz stairs, he glanced at the strange sphere from the past. 

A rather odd feeling began to fill him as he stared into its hypnotic purple glow, as if there were stories hidden deep inside that only he could unlock.

A burning sensation of curiosity followed, begging him to find out what tales this strange artefact held.

“A story for another day,” he murmured, placing the sphere back in his pocket. “I have things to write down.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!!! hope you enjoyed :D  
> songs i listened to while writing this chapter:
> 
> Heartache - Undertale Soundtrack  
> It’s Raining Somewhere Else -Undertale Soundtrack  
> Hello World - Louie Zong  
> Just a Quail - Louie Zong

**Author's Note:**

> thank you sm for reading this :D
> 
> i might not update so often because of school but i'll try my best!!


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